Deliver Us
by SwannTurner
Summary: A songfic based off of Ciel's time as a slave. The song is "Deliver Us" from The Prince of Egypt. I do not own Kuroshitsuji or the song. Songfic, oneshot, complete. I think that covers it.


**Just as a little FYI, I will be writing and posting a Kuroshitsuji fanfic based off of The Prince of Egypt where this song comes from. This fic, however, is completely different and just a songfic oneshot. So enjoy, and I hope you will check out my next Kuroshitsuji fanfic.**

Deliver Us

A young boy sat in the middle of an empty cage, rocking back and forth. His eyes were glazed over, barely visible behind his unruly brown bangs. The filthy rags he wore barely clung to his depraved body. He watched as a man opened the cage next to him.

"Open."

The words fell from the boy's lips as he watched the scene unfold before him. The man's companion grabbed the crying girl inside and pulled her out.

"Pull."

She was carried to a table where several men held her down while a hooded figure pulled a heated piece of metal from a fire. The girl struggled on the table, but the men held her still.

"Hold."

Her scream filled the room as the white-hot brand was pressed to her skin. The men shoved her back in her cage, seeking their next victim.

"Next."

Other children joined the mantra, some barely aware of the words spilling from their mouths.

"Open the cage, pull us out, hold us down, burn, next!"

"With the burn of the brand on my skin

With the salt of my tears on my cheek

Now, God on high

Can you hear your children cry:

Help us now

Our darkest hour."

"Deliver us

Hear our call

Deliver us

Lord of all

Remember us, here in this dark hell

Deliver us

There's a place we once laughed

Deliver us to freedom again."

From one of the far cages sat a boy with shaggy dark hair. It covered his sapphire eyes filled with sorrow. He didn't join in with the group, but instead, murmured his own chant.

"La mort est près, eux aussi(Death is near, so are they)

N'eux permettez pas de vous voir crier(Don't let them see you cry)."

"There is nothing we give

To insure they'll let us live

We can only pray

That he will deliver us."

The other children resumed their rant, while the men and hooded figures just carried on with their twisted activities.

"Deliver us

Hear our prayer

Deliver us

From despair

These weeks of torture are

Too much to bear

Deliver us

There's a place we once laughed

Deliver us

Out of their hands

Deliver us to freedom again."

Who knew how long they had been there? It was nearly impossible to tell time in their prison. Those who had an idea had either slipped far into their minds or had stopped counting. Several small hands grasped at their bars, whispering prayers for the hundredth time that day. Some prayed for freedom, others, an end. But no one answered their pleas or showed that they had been heard. The dark-haired boy in the corner spoke up among the whispers.

"Hush now, be quiet

He will not heed us

No matter how much we plead

It's time to change our prayers to heaven

To calls to the darkness."

"We need a sacrifice," one of the men said.

"How about the one in the corner? He's been here for at least a month."

The figures were soon at the boy's cage, opening it, and pulling him out. He didn't struggle, in fact, he allowed them to lead him to the stone table. They laid him down on the cold surface, one reached for something the boy couldn't see.

"Demon, o demon

Come save me

I'll take the contract we bear

If there is somewhere I can live free

Demon, deliver me there."

With a flash of silver, the man brought the dagger down towards the child's middle. However, it was halted by an invisible force a mere hair's breadth from his target. Before the man could wonder as to why and how he was stopped, his head was twisted sharply to the side and he left lifeless to the ground. The others around him began to crumple and fall, some letting out strangled cries. The children in the cages had mere moments to comprehend what was happening before they too fell to the ground.

From the shadows by the boy's cage stepped a man with pale skin and black hair. His attire was that of a butler's, complete with white gloves. He reached the boy with a few quick strides. The man picked the child up off of the table and carried him towards the door.

One lone voice came from the floor, a girl not quite free from her prison. She was propped up on one arm, one hand stretched out as if reaching for something.

"Ciel, you're free now

And free may you stay

For we will pray just for you

Go, Ciel, our brother

Come back someday

Come and deliver us too."

As the boy left the hell behind, the children's cries echoed back to him.

"Deliver us

Send a savior to save us

And deliver us to freedom again

Deliver us to freedom again."

The girl used her last breath to call out to him before her arm shook and gave out.

"Deliver us!"

She collapsed, her hand hitting the ground with a soft thud.


End file.
